


Of the Survivior and the Broken

by pudding_bretzel



Series: ShiroWeek2017 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Cannibalism, Gen, Gore, Hallucinations, Hurt No Comfort, Isolation, Shiro (Voltron)'s Missing Year, Starvation, companion - Freeform, i feel bad for this, i guess?, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 14:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12842694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pudding_bretzel/pseuds/pudding_bretzel
Summary: Our brain is a funny little thing. It works so similar to us. If it gets too bored, it just makes up some stuff and entertains itself. But what happens, if on top of that, you’re starving and dehydrating, you have a festering wound and are being held prisoner on an alien spaceship?Or: In solitary confinement Shiro starts to hallucinate and tries his best to see this through to the end. But the end doesn't bring the salvation he hoped for.





	Of the Survivior and the Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of my contribution to the blackpaladinweek2017.  
> Day 5: Isolation/Companion  
> This fic is slightly inspired by [Demenior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demenior)'s fanfiction [Little Monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7877566/chapters/17991961). (Go read it if you haven't yet! It's gory and cruel and disturbing and hurts so much, but it's so GOOD!!)  
> I wanted to write something about the Galra studying the human mind and body with a different approach than just dissecting him. How far does a human go in order to survive? How do they react to isolation? How long can they survive without food/water?  
> And this is the result. Enjoy!

Shiro was starving. He didn’t remember the last time he ate, let alone smelled something eatable. He sat alone in the corner of his cold, too small cell. It had had to be at least a few days since they’d put him in here. That had also been the last time they had fed him. Usually, they were eager to keep him strong enough to fight in the arena. But maybe they’d given up on him. Maybe he disappointed them in his last fight, did something wrong or disobeyed another order he just couldn’t understand, because the strange noises they made didn’t make any sense to him. But if that were the case they would have punished him already. He would have had to look in these cold, yellow eyes again and feel the agonizing pain rippling through his scarred body. The pain that was too much for him to bear but he also craved for, because it was the only thing that reminded him that he was still alive. Because this dark room definitely didn’t.

Then again, maybe this was his punishment.

A loud rumble cut through the silence and he curled up even further, his arms hugging his paining stomach. He held his breath until the rumbling subsided to a soft gurgling. His head propped between his knees, he watched as his sweat dripped from his nose and to the ground, forming a small puddle. His bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead and narrowed his range of view. He would have to cut them somehow or this could turn into a severe drawback in his next fight. If he ever got the chance to prove himself in the arena again.

His left shoulder throbbed when he finally released his stomach and leaned back at the wall. The wound from his last fight was still not healed and it’d stay this way, without the required energy for his body to heal the wound by itself. The other, shallower cuts and bruises on the other hand were healing slow but steady, with the healing process not needing as much energy as an infected wound inflicted by a sharp row of fangs did.

He opened his eyes to be greeted by the eerie darkness of the cell. It was completely dark, except for the two small stripes of faint purple light at the door. They gave off just enough light for him to make out the size of the cell and his nearest surroundings, which wasn’t much. The sweat puddle and the count he’d started on the wall next to him with his blood, trying to count how often he was looked after or they’d feed him or anything, indicating any sign of time passing. Sadly, it wasn’t even a real count, because there was only one stroke. The only time someone else had been in his cell was when they’d brought him here.

There hasn’t been any sound since he’d been shuffled into the cell. At least no sound from outside. From time to time he heard faint rushing of water (probably some pipes or tubes in the walls), the swish of grass or leaves (maybe he had some alien ear infection?) or low voices whispering to him about his home, his family, his friends. The worst of all were the moments when he was drifting between sleeping and waking and images of the Garrison or random woods or meadows flew past his eyes. But he grew accustomed to them fairly quickly and even started to welcome their appearances. They were a calming change in his solitude, even if deep down, he knew that these delusions only meant, that he was more badly off than he’d thought.

He closed his eyes again and listened to the water, flowing past his cell. Maybe he just imagined it, but he felt the pain in his shoulder subside and the gurgling of his stomach growing weaker the more he concentrated on the rushing.

****

He woke to the sound of boots scuffing on the floor. Slowly he opened his eyes and made out a slender figure leaning against the wall on the other side of the cell, arms crossed over its chest. The young creature wore a prisoner garb just like Shiro. It took him a few seconds to recognize the person that watched him with a sympathetic smile. Matthew Holt was his name and he was a fellow human like Shiro. He was also an astronaut and a prisoner of the Galra, just like Shiro. But there was one thing they differed – or should differ. And that was that Matt was standing in this cell, when he was supposed to be somewhere safer with his father, Samuel Holt.

Shiro wasn’t surprised to see Matt here. Tough it wasn’t the first time his friend had ‘visited’ him in his cell.

The strange thing was, he’d never seen his friend enter or leave his cell.

“Had sweet dreams?” Even in this darkness, he could see Matt’s grin.

“Why are you here?”

“What, you don’t want me here? I only wanted to comfort my friend, but if it’s not appreciated.” He slowly stood and straightened his back.

Shiro watched as his friend shot him a worried look.

In the short amount of time it took Shiro to blink, Matt was no longer standing on the other side of the cell.

“You know,” Shiro winced when Matt was suddenly sitting next to him, worried look glued to his eyes, “You don’t look so good.”

Shiro pushed himself further into the corner and tried to get some distance between him and Matt. He should be used to his friend’s sudden appearances by now, considering how often it had happened in the past few days-

No, it was still weird… Or perhaps Shiro was just going insane, considering the circumstances.

Probably.

“What’d you expect?” He croaked and eyed Matt warily.

“I don’t know,” Matt looked at the opposing wall and there was something in his gaze that didn’t fit with his normal cheerfulness. It made him look older. Too old. “Maybe I expected you to be stronger than this. I mean, you attacked me in order to save me. I guess I thought you’d fight for your own survival with the same boldness.” A huff, resembling a laugh escaped Matt’s mouth.

It’s not like he hadn’t fought for himself. It wasn’t even a question whether he wanted to survive or not. Of course he did. He had to. Someone had to warn earth. Someone had to save Matt and the commander. Someone had to look after Keith. And currently he was pretty sure that he was the only someone capable of doing these things. Or he wanted to believe that, because it gave him a reason to keep going. “What do you say I should do then?”

Silence ruled over the cell as Shiro’s stomach started to barge in their conversation with a loud rumble. He curled together to a ball and tried to suppress the noise, hugging his abdomen and squeezing it tightly.

It didn’t help.

When he opened his eyes again and looked to his side, Matt was gone. “Thought so.”

Shiro closed his eyes again and relaxed into the corner of his cell, listening as the rushing of the water returned.

****

The door to his cell opened with a metallic screech.

Shiro startled up, his vision still blurred from sleep and his left side throbbing because of the sudden movement. A blurry shadow entered the cell, movements mechanic and non-human. His heart was pounding in his throat when a second shadow entered, motions more fluid than the first ones, and dragging a third body behind him.

The body was thrown into the other side of the cell a few feet away from Shiro and remained there motionless.

Shiro’s head snapped back to the door when he realized the sentry and guard were leaving once again. With surprising speed, he stood and staggered up to the door. “Please, I need water! And food!” His voice was hoarse and strained and he was surprised he could even talk louder than a whisper. He wasn’t sure if they could understand him, but he tried anyway. It was the first time he had contact to any living being, be it sentry or alien, since his solitary confinement had started and he would sure as hell not let this chance slip.

The guard didn’t make any move that they understood, let alone heard him. The sentry on the other hand stepped between Shiro and the guard and raised its blaster, which he only now registered. He took a hesitant step back and watched as the guard left the cell and the sentry turned to follow them.

Now!

Shiro charged at the sentry and slammed his elbow into its back. It crashed into the door frame and made a crackling sound as Shiro grabbed its head and bashed it against the edge of the door. The sentry fell to the floor before the guard even turned around.

Shiro grabbed the blaster from the floor and trained it on the alien guard. Their eyes were wide as they slowly took a step back.

He did it. He’d won, had a weapon and was out of his cell. Now he only had to…what was he supposed to do now?

The adrenaline left his battered body and he could feel the weight of several days without water and food come crashing down on him. His head started spinning and he could feel his legs shaking. His shoulder started throbbing with an excruciating pain and he could barely hold onto the blaster.

No. No, no, no, no! He tried to clear his vision and shook his head vigorously, aimed the blaster at the guard and pulled the trigger.

He missed his target by a long shot.

All it took to bring him to his knees was the recoil of the blaster. The weapon slipped out of his grip and landed on the ground with a metallic bang. Panic rose in his chest and his throat tightened. He’d screwed up. He’d screwed up tremendously. Who knew what they would do with him now? Maybe they would bring him back to the examination room or whatever that hellhole was called. Or they would let him vegetate until he died from starvation or dehydration. Or they would kill him immediately. Why waste time and a cell on a dead man…alien walking.

He felt his body being dragged over the floor. Another metallic screech followed and he was back in the sense deafening darkness.

Vegetating, it was.

He took a deep breath through his nose to calm his racing heart and regretted it immediately. A rancid smell crawled up his nose and made him gag. His eyes snapped open and he looked into the eyes of the creature that had been dragged in earlier. Or more precisely, where the eyes (probably) once were. Two gaping holes, filled with a dark blue liquid, stared back at him.

With a suffocated scream, Shiro recoiled and scrambled to the other side of the cell. The dizziness crawled its way back into his vision and he had to take a few slow breaths and close his eyes. The air of his cell was already filled with the nauseating smell of the alien’s blood. He watched its motionless form with tiring effort. It took him a frustratingly long time to realize that the alien wasn’t moving at all. No faint rising of its chest or anything else.

“Looks dead to me,” Matt’s voice echoed through the cell. Shiro started from the sudden appearance of his friend, but could keep himself from doing any unnecessary movements that would encourage his headache and nausea or could sting the wound on his shoulder.

He gave an agreeing hum and watched as Matt stood and walked over to the alien. He kneeled behind it and started examining it.

“Be careful, it could have germs or a virus,” Shiro said and watched as Matt’s hands were gradually getting stained with the blue blood of the alien. Matt looked up from the corpse, his grin widening.

“You can think of germs and viruses but not think an assault plan through to the end before acting?”

Shiro shuffled uncomfortably in his corner at the thought of his miserable escape attempt. Of course he hadn’t thought it through. He’d acted on pure instinct and had never thought he’d actually be able to take down the sentry.

“C’mon, I was just teasing.” Matt was looking at the alien corpse once again, his grin turning to a soft smile, “But thanks for the concern.”

Shiro watched as Matt began examining its thighs and legs and then moved up to its chest and abdomen. “Hey, take a look at this.”

Carefully and with slow movements, Shiro rose and staggered over to the alien’s side and next to Matt. His friend pointed at a small container, that was attached to a sling around the alien’s neck.

“What’s that?”

“Dunno,” Matt said and shrugged.

Shiro reached for the container and slowly untied it from the sling. The cylindric-formed container was barely larger than his hand. On its top was a slit with a small lug. He carefully pulled at it and the top part popped open. Shiro and Matt peeked into the container and at first saw nothing. It was too dark to make out anything in the small thing. But when he moved it again he could feel the sloshing of a liquid inside. He saw the soft reflection of the lights in his cell on its surface.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized- or hoped to realize- what was inside. The container found its way to his mouth in no time. His head stopped thinking as soon as the sole thought of water scraped his mind. He hoped- prayed- that it was water.

And even if it wasn’t- maybe it would kill him faster than dehydration or starvation.

The liquid filled his dry mouth and as soon as it touched his tongue, he knew that this was indeed water. It tasted muddy and a bit salty with a metallic aftertaste, but it was water all the same. He reveled in the cooling sensation that trickled down his throat with every gulp. At the same time his throat ached from the abundant swallowing.

From the corner of his eye he saw a movement. He stopped himself from drinking immediately. Matt was still there. He needed the water just as much as Shiro needed it.

With a sense of guilt and not a small amount of gloom, he turned to his friend- and realized that he was gone again. He searched the cell for any traces of his friend, but it was empty except for Shiro and the dead alien. There was no place to hide. Matt was gone.

With too much overcoming than he would like to admit, he closed the half-full container once again and retreated to his corner. He didn’t touch the alien corpse or looked at it more than necessary. He still didn’t understand why it was brought here. What did they expect him to do with it? And why had the water been attached to it?

His eyelids grew heavier and heavier until it was too much to keep them open and he fell back into the world of his nightmares.

****

Several days (or at least a lot of time) had passed since the dead alien had been thrown in his cell. He had tried to put aside the water for Matt as long as he could, but his friend hadn’t showed up until he’d been forced to drink the rest himself because of his headache and throbbing throat.

The next time he saw his friend again was hours (or days) after he’d emptied the container and his throat started to feel dry again and every swallow felt like a stab with a knife.

“So you drank it all?” Shiro turned his head and looked blearily at Matt. He looked as healthy as a prisoner of the Galra could look. But he at least looked a thousand times better than Shiro felt.

His body ached all over and he hadn’t really moved much in the past few hours. He was sitting in his corner and tried to avoid any unnecessary action. His bodysuit was dampened by his sweat and he was pretty he sure he had a second skin by now, consisting of sweat, dirt and blood. His wound had started to fester and even the smallest movement sent a spiking pain down his arm and up his neck. His fever had reached its peak and the dehydration caused his head to spin as soon as he focused on one thing for too long.

He was sure that his body shouldn’t be able to withstand such extremes and that he should be dead by now, or closer to death than he was. Maybe they’d given him something to keep him alive while he had been asleep or unconscious (he couldn’t really tell these two conditions apart anymore).

“S’ry,” he finally slurred.

Matt eyed him for a few seconds before he answered, “Nah, it’s okay. You need it more than I do.”

Shiro was grateful of his friend’s insight and his guilt was slowly drowned.

“Ugh, what the hell is that smell? This is worse than my dad’s old socks!” Matt held his nose and looked around the cell and made a face.

Shiro chuckled weakly and took in a wary breath with his nose. He was barely able to tell the difference between the rancid and rotten smell of his cell now and the sweaty and fusty one from before the alien corpse had started to decay.

“Disgusting,” Matt said when his eyes fell on the corpse on the other side of the cell.

He started to complain about the alien and how strange it was for them to bring it here only to let it slowly decay. He continued to talk about possible reasons and the usefulness of the body and flesh in Shiro’s dire situation, but in all honesty, Shiro didn’t take much of his rambling in. It started to blur into the non-stop rushing of the water, the rustling leaves and quiet voices that underlined Matt’s arguments as he drifted away.

****

He didn’t know how long he’d been out, but the rumbling of his stomach made him wake with a start. He wasn’t sure if it was just his body or the whole room that was shaking and rumbling, but it was unsettling all the same. After what felt like minutes, his stomach finally calmed. The hunger felt like a gaping void stretching and growing bigger and bigger with every second.

He pried his eyes open and watched, as the hazy outlines of the cell slowly came into focus. Through the faint light he could see the dull and dead eyes of the dead alien staring back at him-

Eyes? The alien had no eyes. They had been ripped out from its skull and had left only hulls filled with blood behind. This couldn’t be right. Or had he just imagined the empty holes before?

“It’s a different alien.” Matt stood next to the dead creature and eyed it curiously. “They must have exchanged them when you were asleep.” He crouched in front of it and then turned to Shiro, “It’s got another container.” He pointed at the small object tied to the alien’s neck.

Shiro’s heart started to pound faster in his chest at the thought of water. But as much as he’d like to, he wasn’t able to get to the container. The six feet between his salvation and his corner seemed like a mile and an impossible distance to cross with his aching and tired body.

Matt had risen again and now looked at Shiro from next to the corpse. He looked tired. All of his previous positivity was gone and his former set expression was forlorn. He looked all like the scared teenager Shiro had last seen him as, moments before he had sliced his leg and possibly crippled him. A young boy, lost and held prisoner in space with no way of escape.

Except for Shiro. He was still alive and had to get him and his father home. He had promised Mrs. Holt to bring her family safe back to her. And he’d promised Keith to come back as well.

Well, good job on that so far, Shirogane. He had only achieved to get them all captured and separated or hurt. And if things would continue like this, he really wouldn’t be able to keep his promise.

He blinked his blurry vision clear and found that he was alone in the room again.

The alien’s corpse was lying a bit closer than the last one and it also looked feebler. He tried to think about why it was here, but honestly, all his sluggish mind could really focus on was the container around its neck.

Water. Real, liquid water. And it was just out of his reach.

“I can’t watch this any longer. C’mon, I’ll help you.” Matt was crouching next to him and reached out with his arm to support Shiro. His soft touch felt like a rush of warmth and live that sipped through his damp clothes and even his second skin.

He felt like he was moving in slow motion, when he staggered to his feet and heavily leaned on Matt. With small and shaking steps he moved toward the dead alien. When he focused on its frozen expression, still twisted in pain, the room started to spin. The walls started to bend inwards and the cell shrunk and the walls were coming closer and closer and closer-

He lost his grip on Matt’s shoulder and swayed. With a dull thud he fell to the ground only inches away from the corpse. His stomach started rumbling again and he curled up on the floor, waiting for the pain and noise to subside.

He opened his eyes again when the cell was finally completely quiet, except for his ragged and uneven breaths. With shaky hands he reached for the container and after an eternity of struggling with the sling and lug, he was able to open it up. Slowly, he sat up and took a few gulps of the water. He could barely keep himself from just slugging it all down at once, but he had to ration it or he would regret it later.

“Better?”

He barely noticed Matt’s question and stared at the wall opposite to him in trance. His throat still hurt. Unlike the last time, there was no soothing sensation that trickled down his gullet. It was still raw and felt like a desert. Not even three of these containers would be enough to satisfy his thirst.

Matt moved in his field of vision and Shiro pried his gaze from the wall to look at his friend. Before he could answer him the rumbling of his stomach rose again. Shiro groaned and released a few flat breaths and starred at the dead creature.

“Hey.” He looked back at Matt. “I think that’s enough. Don’t play dumb,” Matt said and gripped Shiro by his arms tightly, “We both know why its here.”

Of course, Shiro knew. He’d known ever since the first one had been thrown in his cell. He knew what they wanted him to do, but he refused to bow to their will. He didn’t want to do it. Didn’t want to give them the pleasure of victory.

He wanted to return to earth as a human, and not as an animal.

But if he wouldn’t do it, he wouldn’t be able to return to earth at all. He wouldn’t be able to keep his promise and safe the Holts and see Keith again. He would end up dead and probably rot in another prisoners cell like the other alien had in his.

He couldn’t let it come this far, after all he was a man of his word. If he promised something he would keep it. No matter what.

The rumbling noise of his stomach had grown into a constant background noise and the dull pain was coming in frequent stabs now.

His hand brushed against the skin of the alien and he could feel, that it was still warm. Not even the blood had dried yet. Its arm was soft and squashy. No wonder it hadn’t survived. A feeble creature like that had no chance in the arena. Or anywhere else on this ship, in all honesty.

“No one will ever know,” Matt’s whispering voice was distant, but he registered it nonetheless.

“No one,” he repeated under his breath and slowly gripped the aliens arm with both hands. With a yank he ripped it off and held the limb close to his chest. “No one.”

He lifted the arm and slowly opened his mouth. When his teeth closed as he bit down, he could feel the flesh giving in immediately. It was so soft. When it touched his tongue his taste buds slowly registered that they had work to do. A metallic and foul taste filled his mouth, together with something else he couldn’t quite figure out. When the warm blood trickled down his throat, his stomach recoiled, he gagged and nearly threw up. But he kept it down.

He would make it back alive. He would survive this.

He swallowed down the warm flesh and set his mouth on the arm again to take his next bite.

 _No one will ever know_.


End file.
